I confess that I have a fondness for reading the
descriptions of romance novels and I occasionally submit myself to the
sadomasochist act of reading the books themselves. What intrigues me about
romance novels is that they function essentially as frum novels (fruvels) with
a clear theology and theodicy that make them utterly predictable.
Consider some sample texts from books descriptions:
Together, they journey through everything Quinn's been too
afraid to face, and along the way, Quinn finds the courage to be honest, to
live in the moment, and to fall in love. (Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry by Joya
Goffney.)
She's had enough of playing the good wife to a husband who
thinks he's doing her a favor keeping her around. Now, she's going to take some
time for herself ... she's going to reclaim the carefree girl who spent lazy
summers sharing steamy kisses with her first love on Sullivan's Island. Daring
to listen to her inner voice, she will realize what she wants ... and find the
life of which she's always dreamed. (The Last Original Wife by Dorothea Benton
Frank.)
She can only trust her heart…and hope it won't lead her
astray. (The Bookstore on the Beach by Brenda Novak.)
If she can dare to let go of the life she thought she
wanted, she might discover something even more beautiful waiting for her
beneath a painted moon. (The Vineyard at Painted Moon by Susan Mallery.)
Violet is tempted to take the ultimate step to set herself
free and seek a life of her own conviction with a man whose cause is as
audacious as her own. ... Violet's story of determination and desire unfolds,
shedding light on the darkness of her years abroad...and teaching Vivian to
reach forward with grace for the ambitious future - and the love - she wants
most. (The Secret Life of Violet Grant by Beatriz Williams.)
These stories are all framed by a particular worldview. The
goal of life is to gain self-fulfillment in the form of romantic love. As
Nietzsche understood, in our modern world, God is dead (i.e. irrelevant). This
leaves man as the only standard of moral value. Since we can no longer expect
to find fulfillment in a relationship with God, the alternative is to find
fulfillment in the self.
Romance novels, like much of what comes out mass media,
takes this concept and gives it a populist twist. The average person cannot
plausibly expect to be able to come into themselves by becoming a great artist,
writer, or philosopher. That being said, the average person can imagine having
sex with someone and that this will lead to a relationship that will lead to
them feeling fulfilled. The fact that the sex may violate traditional communal
norms, rooted in religion, helps make the sex an act of self-fulfillment. The
protagonist is able to choose themselves over the demands of society,
demonstrating that their personal happiness is more important than following
the expectations of the community.
At the beginning of the story, the protagonist should be
someone living under comfortable circumstances but lacking romantic
self-fulfillment. This serves to demonstrate the all-importance of love. You
can have everything but your life will still be worthless if you do not have
romance. If the protagonist does find themselves in a difficult situation at
the beginning of the novel that difficulty should clearly arise out of the fact
that they were already living without romantic love. For example, the housewife
finding out that her husband has been cheating on her and is going to divorce
her, leaving her with nothing, has an economic problem that is really a romance
problem.
Our protagonist, having lived their lives by the rules of
society and now coming to recognize that this has not worked out for them as
well as they might have hoped, is suddenly confronted with someone who presents
some sort of challenge in the real world that should reflect the raw sexual
desire they awaken in the protagonist. After an obligatory round of saying no
(the equivalent of the Campbell hero initially turning down the quest), the sex
should happen, leading to a heightening of the conflict, which will clearly be
resolved by the protagonist deciding that choosing to "follow their
heart" is more important than anything else in the world. At this point,
the problem will melt away and a happy ending is to be presumed.
As a work of religious fiction, a romance novel will contain
some form of theodicy where the believer confronts some challenge to their
faith which they must overcome to emerge as stronger believers. For example, a
person prays really hard that God should cure his mother's cancer and it does
not work; how could God let this happen? The believer will eventually learn
that God had a plan for him all along, allowing him to develop a deeper
relationship with God as something more than a genie who grants wishes.
In romance novel theodicy, the protagonist will have been
burned before in romance, a teenage romance the did not work out or a divorce.
After given up hope of true love, an opportunity comes their way, if they are
"bold" enough to "believe" once more and take it. As with conventional
religion, the believer has been given real evidence that their faith does not
work, yet they are supposed to believe anyway. It takes a truly genuine faith
to ignore evidence and believe anyway.
This use of theodicy is really a smokescreen. Like most
works of religious fiction, romance novels suffer from a lack of real conflict.
The point of a Christian novel is presumably about the protagonist choosing
Jesus, which needs to be something simple enough that the reader can expect to
be able to imitate. An exception to this rule would someone like John Bunyan.
As a Puritan, operating within the salvation through grace tradition, Bunyan
wanted to make the opposite point that accepting Jesus was something so
difficult that no person could ever hope to succeed through their own efforts
without active divine assistance. Good religious fiction requires an author who
can truly imagine following a different path and get the reader to take that
alternative seriously. This makes for good fiction but is totally
counter-productive as religious propaganda.
Similarly, there can be real conflict in a Jane Austen or a
Bronte sister novel. An Austen or a Bronte heroine is not free to follow her
heart. She has a navigate a world in which she has limited economic
opportunities and, if she is cast out by her family and community, death by
starvation or tuberculosis is a real possibility. By contrast, the conflict of
a conventional romance novel needs to be solved by the protagonist deciding
that romance is all they care about. The point of the romance novel is
precisely the fantasy that life's problems can be solved so easily. A good
romance novel would require readers to seriously grapple with the struggle
between duty to society and personal fulfillment without taking it as a given
that the latter should take precedence. This would make for a good novel but
would fail as propaganda for the religion of self-fulfillment.
It might be interesting to, following the logic of Pride
Prejudice and Zombies, to take a conventional romance novel and make it about
accepting Jesus. A highly successful career woman has her life overturned when
her godless husband cheats on her and demands a divorce. Moving back home, she
runs into the handsome former high school sports team captain that she lost her
virginity to as a teenager. Desperate to feel valued, she flings herself at
him. The guy confesses that he really wants to sleep with her but he cannot
because he has accepted Jesus. The woman is so impressed by the guy's
self-control that she decides to go to church to accept Jesus. The night
before, the husband returns and apologies. Now we have "drama." Will
the woman still accept Jesus and will she dump who no good husband for her
"true love?" She tells her husband that she can forgive him because
there is someone who died for her sins. The two of them go to church to accept
Jesus together and run into the other guy. Will our male hero fight for the
woman he loves? No, the two men shake hands as brothers in Christ and the woman
drives off with her husband, having turned down the really hot guy.